


This Isn't Everything You Are

by The_Aquarian



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Angst, Chiccolo - Freeform, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Family, Friendship/Love, Memories, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 04:17:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7743070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Aquarian/pseuds/The_Aquarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Oh, Goku!" Chi Chi's voice was broken with years of unshed tears. "I… I love you. And I miss you." </p><p>All it took was those seven words for Piccolo Junior's universe to come crashing down on him, raining defeat and disappointment and betrayal upon his broken spirit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Isn't Everything You Are

**Author's Note:**

> Standalone piece based on J.L. Lunar's alternate universe story "I Didn't Ask for This." Son Chi Chi runs a restaurant next to a flower shop Junior (Ma Junior/Piccolo) runs. Goku has been absent from Chi Chi's and Gohan's lives for well over a year, as he travels around as a competitive fighter. Portions of the dialogue are taken (with J.L. Lunar's permission) from "I Didn't Ask for This."

The movie had just ended. Junior stretched his arms, looked over at Chi Chi. She’d fallen asleep sometime during the last thirty minutes. As much as he loved to poke fun at her and call her “Milk” to annoy her, there was something beautiful about her at the moment. In sleep, her face was free of worry. A soft smile graced her full lips, one he’d only seen a few times, all of them moments he’d carefully tucked away into his memories.

After learning Gohan was staying at Videl’s for a sleepover, he’d changed from his regular sweatpants and sweatshirt into jeans and a t-shirt and selected _Wolf-Man_ , Chi Chi’s favorite movie, for a long overdue “grownups” movie night. Apparently Gohan, her son, wasn’t quite up for watching the horror B-films both Chi Chi and he enjoyed, so Junior had taken advantage of the moment. It had been… quite nice, really, with jokes occasionally passed back and forth, a laugh here or there at something corny, a side comment about Gohan or her business or Junior’s cousins or anything at all. The night air was pleasant, the rooftop plants smelled wonderful, and life wasn’t kicking in Junior’s teeth for once. He was truly enjoying his time with Chi Chi, something he’d only realized was happening in the last several weeks. They’d gone from hating each other a year ago to actually becoming-

A mobile phone began ringing.

It wasn’t his. He’d put his on silent and left it downstairs, compound Namekians and his father be damned if they wanted to get in touch with him tonight. Immediately his mind when to Gohan. Had something happened at the sleepover (a common occurrence when Gohan went to Videl’s house)? Did the boy need something? Was he okay? Had he called Junior only to reach voicemail?

The noise startled Chi Chi awake. She was confused and looked around for a moment before realizing it was her phone. Her eyes went wide as she glanced at it. “H-Hello, Goku?” Chi Chi sounded hesitant to answer, perhaps disbelieving the caller ID. Junior was thoroughly surprised. Why was her damned, very estranged, never-around-to-care-about-his-family-one-bit husband calling? Why now?

Goku’s happy, cheerful, and completely oblivious voice was like fingernails on a chalkboard to the Namekian’s sensitive ears. He didn’t need to lean close to the phone to overhear Goku’s words. _“Hiya, Cheech!”_

Worry lines appeared on Chi Chi’s face. “What is it?” 

_“Is Gohan around?”_

Because of course the eight-year-old would be awake at 11.17pm. Goku had said only five words and already Junior wanted to murder him through the phone. What if that call had awoken a sleeping Gohan? Did Goku honestly _not_ consider nor care about his son’s welfare and sleeping habits? Then again, it had been well over a year since Goku had even seen his wife and son – never since Junior had known them – so maybe the idiot just had no idea.

“Ah – no,” she sighed just a bit, worry fading some. “He’s at his friend’s house…”

_“Aw, that’s a shame. I guess I’ll call back some other time!”_

“Oh,” Chi Chi said, sadness in her voice. “Okay.” She looked down at her free hand, clenched tightly into a fist. Loneliness crept into her downcast eyes. Gohan was gone tonight. When she went back to her apartment, it would be empty. And Goku… Where in the world was he tonight?

 _She seems so sad_ , Junior thought. He didn’t quite know what he was doing as he moved closer to her, carefully wrapping a hand around her forearm, thumb minutely rubbing against her skin in what he hoped was a calming way. In that moment, he wanted to show that _he_ was there – had been there, would stay there, for her and Gohan, no matter what Goku promised or said. He could only hope that would perhaps be enough to get her through the call. Then he remembered that damn fight: Freeza kept backing Junior into a corner, holding his father’s life over his head simply to pit Junior and Goku against each other again. 

“Wha – Junior!” Her voice was somewhere between shocked and curious as she glanced at him. 

_“Junior? As in… Mr. Junior? The one Gohan really likes?”_ Goku finally sounded interested. Sadly, it wasn’t over how his wife and son were. Maybe it was enough of a victory that the fool had remembered something about Gohan. _“You’re friends with him, too, Cheech?”_

“Yes, I – well, yes, I suppose I am friends with Mr. Junior…” She playfully stuck her tongue out at Junior; he dramatically rolled his eyes at her, earning him a small smile.

He pressed closer to her, his voice a whisper. “Ask him if he’s heard about our fight.” Maybe Freeza would back off some if there was at least acknowledgement from both fighters.

She nodded. “Hey – Goku…,” she said, “have you heard anything about a fight?”

_“Krillin and 18’s? Yeah! That’s all Master Roshi talks about now – it’s so boring. He won’t take any more fights right now, since he’s so focused on 18. She must be real strong for Roshi to care that much!_

Roshi was a notorious womanizer. If he was interested in a fight, it wasn’t because the woman was strong… and _everyone_ knew that, except, apparently, Son Goku. Not for the last time, Junior wondered how Chi Chi had stayed with her husband this long, only to be reminded that they weren’t really together anymore.

Junior had moved close enough to press his cheek against Chi Chi’s hand. He was intoxicated by her flowery perfume, how the strands of her hair that fell against him were so soft, how beautiful she looked with the lights of the movie and the stars illuminating her face. A warmth was blossoming in his gut, a strange sensation he didn’t understand. He wanted to be even closer to her, to gently cradle her face in his hands and memorize her face, the curve of her nose and the peaks of her eyebrows and the graceful roundness of her eyes and the shape of her lips, salty from her popcorn and a bit red from her always chewing on them when she thought…

“So that’s the only fight?” She turned wide-eyed as she finally realized Junior’s proximity, how his cheek was comfortably cold against her fingers clinched tightly around her phone, how his breath smelled like mint from his smoothie, how his antennae were all but touching her temple. A faint purple blush was appearing on his cheeks as he met her gaze.

_“Yeah… Well, hey, since Gohan’s not around, I guess I’d better get going!”_

Chi Chi sat up at that, Junior forgotten. She knew that tone. Goku was saying goodbye, leaving again, disappearing for God knows how many days and weeks and months this time; it had already been nearly eighteen months, and here he was, getting ready to go away again… Some hidden swell of desperation broke free from inside her as she gripped the phone tighter. She felt terrified, eyes darting about like an animal trapped and planning one final resort toward either life or death. “Oh, Goku!” Chi Chi’s voice was broken with years of unshed tears. “I… I love you. And I miss you.”

The breath was knocked from Junior’s lungs. 

It felt like betrayal. That was the only way he could describe the emotion, an agonizing ache deeper than any punch, kick, or jab he’d ever received in training or fighting. For a split second, the world spun. The stars above shifted, the planets realigned, the universe fell into a sick, twisted, bizarro world. If Chi Chi had stabbed Junior, ripped off his head, shot him point blank, beat him up thoroughly and left him for dead on the side of the road, he would have been in less pain.

Goofy, ridiculous laughter – so out of place that Junior thought he must have mentally snapped – brought him back to reality. To the words he’d just heard, the woman he was looking at, and the conversation still going on.

 _“Haha! Cheech, you’re so silly!”_ Goku was cruelly and stupidly oblivious. _“Tell Gohan I said hi!”_

The phone lit up, signaling the call had ended. 

Scorching rage coursed through Junior. Chi Chi had just told Goku she still loved him – and, for the dragon’s sake, _that_ was excruciating – and the bastard _had laughed at her_.

Junior wanted to _murder_ Son Goku. No. Not murder; that would be too kind. Rip him limb from limb, snap each bone one at a time, push the man into such pain that he would _never_ laugh again. Not at a joke, a riddle, something mildly funny, and _especially_ at Chi Chi.

With so many emotions surging through him, he needed an outlet for them. _Now_. If not, he’d likely find wherever Goku was staying and annihilate the fool. He needed something to destroy, something to ruin...

A slight whimper snapped Junior back to Chi Chi. “Milk…?” He struggled to keep his tone even. A sob found its way up her throat as she completely fell apart, tears a waterfall down her cheeks. She was absolutely and wretchedly pathetic, a woman all but broken, sitting on a rooftop in a beanbag chair.

Whatever he was feeling, she was going through much worse. The woman, always more a dragoness than simply human, had devolved into tears. Sobs wracked her body as she cradled her mobile phone, half-holding it as if she could put it back against her ear and hear the words Goku had long ago once said, a reply to her own admission. There was something so pitiful about her as she tried to hide her face and tears and failed miserably. 

Chi Chi needed… something. He thought hard, trying to remember movies he’d watched with Gohan and her, nearly every one with humans interacting to some degree. _Touch_ , he remembered. _They comfort with touch_.

Before he could really think his actions through, he reached his arm around Chi Chi’s shoulders, half-expecting her to snatch it up and rip it off. Even now, cowed to her emotions, Chi Chi could still murder him. He’d only doubted her strength once. Having seen her spar with him, how easily she’d taken him down (even if he hadn’t been trying) the woman could shred limbs if she felt so inclined.

Chi Chi hadn’t quite leaned into his chest but she hadn’t turned away the comfort either. Instead, she looked up at him, surprise and anguish pooling in her beautiful brown eyes along with her tears. Junior felt his cheeks flush purple as he tried to find his voice. “Uh – I don’t know if this is helpful…?” he murmured. She said nothing, only let him keep his arm around her as she wept, occasionally burying her head and fist in the fabric of his shirt. 

From where he sat, gaze focused on the small woman he held, Junior tried to make sense out of the chaos. If he could at least _understand_ , maybe he could help Chi Chi. He’d never said “I love you” to anyone, though, not even his father when growing up, so hearing those words and having laughter returned…

But what he could not understand was why she was _crying_. Why wasn’t she angry? Furious? Murderously pissed off that the stupid Saiyan she’d married had laughed at her and called her silly when said she loved and missed him? Screaming at Junior to drive her to wherever that sack of shit was so she could beat Goku into a pulp? That phone call was another moment where Chi Chi should have realized the only connection remaining between Goku and her was their child, and the boy had always been more Chi Chi’s; Goku never cared about babies, or sex, or anything except fighting. In that, especially, Gohan wasn’t his father’s child. And thank the dragon and stars and universe and every god every species worshipped for that miracle.

Junior remembered everything Gohan had told him about growing up, all the things Goku had done (carelessly, negligently, immaturely, neglectfully, disinterestedly) to the child, all the years of unintended psychological, emotional, and mental anguish Gohan had gone through. He thought of Gohan’s winter recital – Goku didn’t even have an excuse for missing that – and the field trip – again, no excuse. At some point, Junior had believed Chi Chi was, well, not quite immune, but perhaps strong enough to get past Goku; to see that her journey as Son Chi Chi had come to an end years ago, to recognize that that avenue of life had ended and it was time to find another way, a better way for her and her son. The truth, instead, was that it had always been a façade – a damn good one, too. Realizing it had only been a mask was one of the most painful things Junior had ever experienced.

She still loved her husband. She still missed her husband. Even if she hadn’t intended on saying the words, that didn’t erase them being said; perhaps, in an attempt at desperation and hoping for something – _anything_ – from Goku, she had accidentally spoken the last bit of truth she’d held for the man she was still married to, which only made the words more potent.

Junior knew now how this would end. One day, Goku would show up at Chi Chi’s restaurant, grinning benignly like the fool he was, and Chi Chi would like scream and curse and belittle him for having not seen Gohan in however many years, but she would take him back into Gohan’s and her lives. It wasn’t that Junior didn’t want Gohan to be happy and have a father: It was merely that he never wanted Gohan to be sad, and sadness trailed behind Goku and filled the void he left because he always left. When Goku returned, there wouldn’t be any remaining place in the Son family for Junior. He would become just some Namekian who had helped out when Gohan was a kid and Goku was off fighting, a name eventually forgotten as Gohan and Chi Chi worked to reincorporate Goku back into their lives. Junior would be nothing more than a ghost watching from the outside as he slowly faded away to lost memories. And didn’t that make Junior the _real_ fool?

No matter what he did – had done, would do – Junior would never truly be Gohan’s father, even if it was all he wanted anymore. Those tender moments where Gohan had called him “daddy” had lifted the dark shroud under which Junior hid his true self. The kid deserved the best father ever created, and, though Junior was nowhere near what that precious kid should have, he still tried. Goku hadn’t, ever. So why, just when Junior and Chi Chi were becoming friends and actually enjoying each other’s company… Why did she still love Son Goku? Why him? Of all the creatures in the universe, _why him_?

Chi Chi’s sobs had grown quieter as she lay within his arm. He shifted slightly but not so much as to move her. “Milk…”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Chi Chi wouldn’t look at his face. Her voice was harsh, brooking no further discussion of what was said during the phone call. She didn’t need to say anything, though, for Junior to know she was feeling shame. Whether over her words, crying, Goku’s response, or what wasn’t said, he would never know.

They didn’t move for a few moments. Junior raised a hand to pat her head and brush through her hair as he stood. It wasn’t exactly the best form of comfort, but it was the best he could do without crossing boundaries. “I’ll start another movie.”

“Thanks,” Chi Chi said. She sounded truly grateful.

“No problem.” He ducked down by the projected, looking through movie titles. He’d bought both _Bride of Frankenstein_ and _Dracula_ in addition to _Wolf-Man_ , figuring they’d eventually get around to watching all three. Seeing how Chi Chi’s conversation with her husband had gone, though, he considered that anything relating to marriage or divisive relationships could push her into another crying spell, which he couldn’t stand to see or hear. There was still so much he needed to sift through, and he knew Chi Chi was feeling the same. Those seven words had shifted everything around him so very much for the worse. Looking through a couple other videos he’d brought up, he finally decided on a comedy. “I’m no stranger to bad feelings.”

Chi Chi’s sniffle soon turned into a laugh. “You are the King of Surly.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said with mock-arrogance, one corner of his mouth tugging into a small smirk. “Now, dry it up, I don’t want to hear you crying over…”

“No!” she whined as she buried her face in her hands, knowing what he was going to say.

“ _Spilled Milk._ ”

“Oh my God, I hate you!” Chi Chi laughed and called against her beanbag. “The literal worst.”

Junior walked over and motioned beside her as the movie began rolling. “Do you, uh, do you want more… of that stuff?”

She looked at him for a moment, surprise on her face. Junior again pointed toward her empty bowl. “Popcorn? Uh, yeah. Yeah, that would be great.” She nodded, handed him the bowl. “But the movie’s start-”

He grabbed the bowl and headed toward the rooftop door. “I’ve seen it plenty of times,” he said, fighting to keep his voice flat. He needed a moment alone to compose himself. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

As the opening scenes of _Ghostbusters_ played, Chi Chi was left watching his broad shoulders disappear down the staircase. She couldn’t help but feel embarrassed and ashamed. Junior had overheard how dismally the phone call went. Now, firsthand, he knew what a hopeless case she was. Why had she told Goku she loved and missed him, after how terribly he’d treated his family these last few years? Did she want him back in her life so badly? Things were getting better for Gohan and her, weren’t they? Junior was helping so much with Gohan; he’d stepped up to become a father figure to her little boy, and she was enjoying her time with the moody (and increasingly attractive) Namekian more than she should, as a married woman. And it wasn’t like Goku was actively trying to be a part of their marriage… _Still! No excuse to look outside my marriage_ , she chided herself. A good wife stuck with her husband through thick and thin, through long absences and short times together, through better or worse, for richer or poorer. Didn’t they?

Her mind wandered back to coffee with Bulma that morning. _“When someone’s gone for more than they’re present… did they really leave you at all?”_ That was she had asked Bulma, after admitting she’d been looking at divorce papers. It had truly surprised Chi Chi that Bulma was a divorcée, even if it had been a business thing and not love. Really, it had shaken her hopelessly romantic heart. So many people treated love callously these days. Over fifty-percent of all marriages ended in divorce, she’d read. Didn’t those couples believe in “’til death do us part?”

Was that why she had said those words to Goku, because she had felt compelled to keep hanging on to her marriage, tooth and nail, until death did part Goku and her, especially after seeing how many people around her regarding it as little more than a connection on paper and a pair of rings? And yet, was that how marriage worked? Hers wasn’t at all normal. Goku hadn’t seen her in nearly two years. He had next to no interest in her life or their son’s; not once had he asked how her restaurant was going, or what city they were in, or how Gohan was doing to school. She didn’t even talk to him daily; a text or two a week was sufficient enough communication between them. Besides, when she’d texted him more frequently, Goku had only complained that it was distracting him from training. At this point, could that disinterest and absence and lack of caring be called a marriage?

Chi Chi leaned back against her beanbag, shifting her gaze to the midnight sky above as if her answers might be written in the starts.

_When someone’s gone for more than they’re present… did they really leave you at all?_

Now that was an impossible question if ever there was one.

If it was only her in the marriage, she could take that for however long it lasted. She could tolerate Goku’s negligence and foolishness and forgetfulness; after all, they had been both together yet apart since children. But Gohan… He was a sensitive child who picked up on the smallest emotional turmoil and ruminated on it silently. Brilliant, kind, giving, compassionate… Gohan had seen how little Goku cared about his family – or rather, as Chi Chi had always tried to explain, how Goku _did_ care for his family but in his own way. What Goku had done to her little Gohan was horrible. The winter recital, too many callous comments in his obliviously happy tone, missed fieldtrips, forgetting birthdays, ignoring holidays (a 90-second phone call couldn’t quite count as remembering), and on and on the list went. She had always been worried about Gohan growing up without a real fatherly presence. She’d read articles about how some men who grew up with absent fathers did poorly in the real world and failed at relationships and ended up leaving their own children and wives, and how important it was that a child have a solid relationship with his or her same gender parent in order to create healthy models for life. For so long had she been worried Gohan wouldn’t be able to develop properly because of her childhood dream of being a princess, with Goku her prince charming.

Hadn’t it honestly been a blessing that her car had broken down that day, and she’d had to ask her surly neighbor Junior for a ride to get Gohan and herself to school?

She didn’t hide the smile that dawned on her face as she realized that, yes, it had been that tiny miracle that had made Gohan’s world – and hers, and Junior’s – all the better, so very much better. The mean, gruff, people-hating, introverted, secretive, kindhearted, gentle, caring, considerate, loving Namekian. Sure, it had taken over a year for her to see all of the good qualities, and that was only through Junior’s growing dedication to Gohan, but Junior was actually… great. The way he’d looked at Gohan after the talent show, and how Gohan had said, “I love you, Mr. Junior. You’re like the best daddy ever,” and the beautiful love beaming from Junior’s face, and the way he’d called her “Chi Chi” instead of “Milk” as he went to tuck Gohan in…

 _You’re the whole reason I even talk to people anymore_. Junior had pleasantly shocked her by saying that only a couple hours earlier, his voice hopefully, face open, any trace of an attitude or false bravado completely gone. It had warmed her heart. In a way, he was the whole reason she’d kept doing so many things, too, and for starting many others. Chi Chi was looking forward to the new things awaiting Gohan, Junior, and her, together.

And, with those good thoughts and a smile, she settled back to laugh at Peter Vinkman’s mind-reading “negative reinforcement on ESP ability (aka flirting with the pretty blonde)” experiment.

When Junior returned a few minutes later with fresh popcorn, she smiled at him, every trace of her earlier sadness gone. He gave her a small smile in return, timidly at first, until they began pelting each other with popcorn. 

It wouldn’t be until much later that Chi Chi faced the most difficult question: Did she truly still love Goku, or was she vainly clinging to the last tattered remnants of a dream ruined long before it was ever dreamt?

*&*

Around 1.35am, after _Ghostbusters_ had ended, Junior looked over at Chi Chi. She’d laughed heartily at the movie – it was a classic and absolutely hilarious, after all – but Junior hadn’t found it within himself to do little more than half smile at some of the funniest bits. Whatever happiness had been taken from him earlier had yet to return. Sure, he’d smirked and grimaced and faked a grin or two but found no true enjoyment. His mood had sunk like a lead weight; it would be a while before it resurfaced.

Once again, Chi Chi had fallen asleep, this time curled slightly on her side facing Junior as she’d nestled into the beanbag chair, one hand still in her half-full popcorn bowl.

He sighed. Why? Why had all of this happened? Why couldn’t he have just gone on, pissed at the world and hating everything, having no true place to call him, alone and lonely, instead of hurting over a woman? And a _human_ woman at that?

Growing up, his father had had girlfriends. Well, “girlfriends” was too strong a word. Once, jokingly to an appalled Kami, the “Demon King” Piccolo had called the women his “harem of sexy demon skanks.” There had been many species among them: mostly humanoids, Earthlings, Shirts, Gelboians, Zarbonians, an occasional Saiyan, even some Angilas… Always a pretty female. If she balked against his orders, or when he grew tired of her, Piccolo promptly disposed of her however he saw fit (usually giving her to the Cold Family in exchange for money or fight bonuses). Junior had learned early not ask where the woman from two hours ago had gone, who the new one arriving was, and especially never to get attached or talk to one too much because she would disappear as quickly as she had appeared. Piccolo rarely kept the same female for longer than a week. At first it had bothered Junior but, as he grew older and more jaded, he understood women came with fighting. His father always said women liked fighters for their muscles and money, so they deserved to be take advantage of until the man was bored, then tossed out like used tissues. It wasn’t a philosophy Junior believed in. 

Right now, though, he’d give almost anything to talk this out with someone who would understand, because he sure as hell couldn’t comprehend what had happened during that phone call. 

After Goku was a no show at Gohan’s winter recital, the kid had said he never remembered his father holding him as a child. Junior had overheard Chi Chi telling Bulma that Goku had rarely touched Gohan until he was nearly four, thinking babies were too floppy to hold. It had been going on two years since wife or child had seen Goku. So why had she said she loved and missed him, a man that all but thrown her and their son aside in favor of fighting?

Chi Chi shifted slightly, murmured some unintelligible slur of words. If she slept much longer on the beanbag, she’d have a terrible backache. They were comfy to sit in for a while but not the best things for sleep.

Junior knelt down beside her. He considered waking her up, but she looked so peaceful… Before he really thought about it, he’d scooped her into his arms, carefully cradling her head and neck against his chest. She was warm on his naturally cold skin. A gentle smile broke across her face and she nuzzled her head against his shirt. His anger softened some as he realized he wanted to look at her like this forever, though it only made his heart ache more. Gingerly, taking every step as lightly as possible so as not to jostle her, he managed to open the rooftop door and proceeded down the stairs.

Dende was on the couch, awake and reading a book; Nail was thankfully not in sight.

“Oh, Piccolo…,” the small Namekian whispered when he looked up, big eyes full of worry. Junior knew his cousins had heard everything; Namekian hearing was both a blessing and a curse.

“Can you help me get her back into her place?” he murmured. Normally he would snarl if someone called him “Piccolo,” his father’s name more than his own, but tonight, with everything else, he just didn’t give a damn.

“Of course. Whatever you need.”

They walked slowly to Chi Chi’s apartment, no words spoken except for where her spare key was.

Leaving Dende in the restaurant, he carried Chi Chi up the flight of stairs to her apartment, then into her bedroom. As if she was made of glass, he lay her down, propping a pillow behind her head. His body immediately missed the warmth she’d brought. He walked around and pulled the top quilt over her. For the briefest moment, Junior struggled with an urge to kiss her. It was likely the only chance he’d ever get. Months ago, sure, he would’ve done it just to piss her off, if he hadn’t been pretending to be so repulsed by her, that is. Now, though, when he wanted to, it wouldn’t be right – she might still kick his ass for what he’d already done by carrying her home and placing her in bed instead of leaving her on the beanbag all night.

He delicately brushed back her bangs and placed his lips against the smooth skin of her forehead for only a moment. Yes, he was furious with and disappointed in her and livid at Goku and in pain from what felt like her betraying him, but he wanted desperately to understand something that he never could. As he pulled back, he felt a pang in his heart, as if this was a goodbye. Maybe it was. She would always be Goku’s, even if Goku didn’t want her.

“Mm,” she murmured, turning on her side and stretching an arm toward him in sleep. “Goku…”

Junior felt his heart shatter.

He left her then, scribbling a hasty note explaining he’d carried her over, and to call him whenever it was time to pick up Gohan if she needed a ride to Videl’s house. 

On the way back to their own apartment, Dende paused just before opening the door. “Are you okay?” he asked.

For once, there wasn’t a sneer or grimace or smirk as an answer. Junior shrugged, looking away, before he reached out and patted Dende’s head. Dende didn’t remember that action ever happening but once or twice before, in moments when he’d been in tears because someone had picked on him. As he took in Junior’s distant gaze and the firm set of his jaw and those strong shoulders slumped in defeat, he knew the answer.

*&*

Junior lay alone in the early hours of morning, solar port lights on. He kept trying to meditate but found he couldn’t push Chi Chi from his mind, specifically her words to absent husband: I love you. And I miss you. But perhaps, even worse, Goku’s reply: _Haha! Cheech, you’re so silly! Tell Gohan I said hi!_ And then the asshole had hung up.

Clenching one hand into fist, Junior slammed it against the floor. _How can he be like that? Be so flippant about his child and his wife?_ Junior snarled at his mind, at the memory of fighting Son Goku. “Should’ve ripped his head off,” he muttered. “At least then…” 

The bravado so engrained within him slowly dissolved, the mask he showed the world fading into sadness. _At least then…what?_ he thought. If he’d killed Goku in their original match, if his father had killed Goku in their earlier match, such a thing as sharing movies with Gohan and Chi Chi would never have happened. Going to the arcade, having occasional dinners with Gohan, taking him to sleepovers, scaring away bullies, helping him practice songs for school recitals, even that stupid talent contest Vegeta and Bulma had roped him into… None of it. Instead, Gohan would always see Junior as he had that night when Junior and Chi Chi had picked the boy up from a slumber party at Videl Satan’s house: with shades of horror. Revulsion. Disgust. Disappointment.

Was that it? Disappointment? Junior considered the word for a moment. Yes, it was disappointment he was feeling, but, for once, not at Goku nor Goku’s inability to see what an amazing wife and son he had. No, Junior was disappointed in _Chi Chi_ for still loving a man that was too much an idiot to see how precious his son was and how great a woman Chi Chi was. She loved a man who made her child cry far too often by being a clueless, callous fool. Junior’s hands twitched at the thought of what he would like to do to Son Goku in their upcoming fight. He wouldn’t fight – he’d promised Gohan he would never do that again, and _he kept his promises_ – but it felt good to think of how he’d punch Goku in the throat (so he could never lie or make false promises to Gohan again), before kneeing him in the groin (so he’d never laugh at Chi Chi’s feelings again), then slamming a fist into his mouth (just because Goku deserved to have his ridiculous grin destroyed)… 

Junior shook his head at yet another fantasy that wouldn’t come true.

Chi Chi wasn’t some trapped princess who needed saving, and Junior sure as hell wasn’t the dashing prince charming come to rescue her from life; he was nothing more than a stupid court jester who thought too high for his station.

Perhaps it had all been wishful thinking. No, it was wishful thinking; there wasn’t a “perhaps” to it. In his most private dreams, sequestered to a part of his mind that even his imagination rarely wandered to, he’d wanted to be a permanent fixture in Gohan’s life: tucking him each night and reading him stories in all the different character voices and helping him with schoolwork and and… and Chi Chi had slowly become a part of that illusion. Watching movies with her. Sparring. Helping wash dishes. Going back to the arcade, particularly if it meant more photo booth pictures and Xuanzang the toy dragon getting more stuffed friends. Sharing praises and comments over Gohan, after he was at school or sleeping for the night, before they talked about something on television or her restaurant or Dende’s shop or Bulma’s attempts at a relationship with Vegeta (and vice versa) or anything and everything, really. She would grow tired and so would he, her head on his shoulder and his arms around her as they would sit on the couch and fall asleep together… That was always where his delusions had ended. He could be happy with that forever. Of course, if their relationship grew into something more, he wouldn’t mind. Her sinewy arms deserved to be caressed as they held onto him, her legs kissed and teased so slowly she nearly screamed before he reached her core, with her nails digging into shoulders hard enough to make him bleed, her waspish waist encompassed by his arm as he pulled her against him as he pinned her against the wall, her moans filling his ears as his lips and tongue laid claim to her mouth and jaw and neck and breasts, his hips grinding against hers as his shaft buried itself inside her again and again-

Junior rolled onto his stomach. Now was not the time for those thoughts; he knew they wouldn’t get him anywhere. But it had felt good when she’d let his arm stay around her shoulders, and a strange warmth had spread throughout his body when she’d leaned into him, letting him actually comfort her. Chi Chi had let down her invincible dragoness exterior and shown the weakest part of herself to a person she once despised. Sadly, most sadly, it wasn’t because of something good and happy Junior had done or her wanting to be close to him physically; it was because her asshole husband had all but reached through the phone and crushed her heart. Again. Junior just happened to be the nearest shoulder to cry on at the moment.

Even if Goku hadn’t known about his (eventual) upcoming match with Junior, it felt like Goku had already won. The pain of seeing Chi Chi break was a deathblow. And how callous, actually _hearing_ … 

So how could Chi Chi still love Goku, who kept hurting her every time he called or texted? All the bastard seemed to do was make her life worse.

What Goku could give her, though, was normal-looking children. Nice family portraits with everyone looking human. It’s not that Chi Chi was vain; it was simply that, with Goku, she had a chance at a solid family without strange glances cast at the ugly seven-foot tall green alien with antennae and giant pointed ears. There was something to be said for normality.

He sat up and decided to go to the roof for a smoke. The nicotine didn’t do anything for him but it was something to do with his hands, and there was a calm in about watching the smoke twirl away over the world as it disappeared. Shrugging on a sweatshirt, he headed to his bedroom and hidden cigarette stash, then to the roof. The beanbags were still there – he thought about having a movie night with Gohan the next night and didn’t see a reason to put them up yet – along with Chi Chi’s half-empty popcorn bowl, a couple crumpled cans of soda, and his smoothie cup. He lit up his first cigarette and took a long drag.

There had never been a chance of him ending up with them, no matter how much he adored and would anything for Gohan, or how he had come to fall in love with Chi Chi as he befriended her. But when she’d whispered Goku’s name as he’d kissed her, it had been the final blow to destroy any last fragment of his dream to make a family with Chi Chi and Gohan.

_I love you. And I miss you._

_Haha! Cheech you’re so silly!_

Junior sighed, breath a mix of blue-grey smoke and white wisps. Perhaps that was simply what he needed to be, a friend and demi-father. It wasn’t like he would (could) ever ignore Gohan when Chi Chi and Goku reconnected somehow, at some future point. Junior would rather die than have to give up his time with that kid. Such a sweet boy, a brilliant boy, talented and gifted and funny… The perfect child, sadly born to a father who, no matter Chi Chi’s protestations, didn’t give a damn about him. If Goku actually _did_ care, he would have found a way to balance his life so as to incorporate Chi Chi and Gohan. Or, at the very least, Goku could have given his wife and son money to live off of. From what Chi Chi had said to Bulma (and only because Namekians had amazing hearing, and Junior had just _happened_ to overhear them as they talked in the kitchen one afternoon, because he certainly hadn’t started straining to hear every word spoken once that asshat’s name was mentioned), Goku barely made anything that didn’t go hand-to-mouth for him and his band of travelling fighter friends, all of whom clearly had more precedent in Goku’s life than Chi Chi or Gohan. Goku lived and travelled in a trailer with four other men, going from city to city just because someone was strong, ending up in hospitals from one end of the country to the other… How could _that_ win out over a family?

 _What a terrible life_ , Junior thought, not for the first time. He’d secretly been glad when he let his Ma Junior persona go. His father had pushed him into fighting rather than Junior seeking it himself, and then, when he did become a fighter, it was more to appease his father than personal glory or fame or women or money. All of it could be summed up as wanting to make the Demon King happy – an impossible and unattainable task. Maybe that was another piece of this emotional puzzle: In Gohan, Junior sometimes saw himself, a child desperate for validation and love from his father, knowing the whole while the father didn’t give a shit because nothing the kid was right, or at least not right in the right areas. It was a messed up world when beating someone senseless received higher praise than making a straight “A” report card.

Not for the first time, he was relieved Gohan had never raised a fist to those bullies. Stepping in and protecting Gohan had been the right thing. Chi Chi had confessed one night that she feared Gohan would follow his father into the ring and her beautiful boy would forever be lost to blood, gore, broken bones, knocked out teeth, concussions, and worse. Having been a fighter, and being both the receiver and giver of such blows, Junior had come to respect those who didn’t raise a fist more than those who routinely used physical strength for victories.

An angry tremor shot through his hand as he flicked away his first cigarette and lit another. Only a couple weeks ago, Videl and Gohan had gotten into a fist fight. Something like that, Chi Chi needed her son’s father for. The woman deserved her son’s father to be there, as did Gohan. Instead of Goku, though, Junior had stepped in as a surrogate dad, picking up Gohan from the Satans’ house, cleaning his wounds, and having (how had Chi Chi put it?) “a mature conversation with Gohan about his feelings and the duality of morals.” It hadn’t helped anything that, when Chi Chi told Goku about the fight, Goku had been happy, excited, and proud. His kid in physical pain from hitting another child – a friend, no less! – made that dolt _happy and proud_.

In the bathroom of a restaurant, as Junior had carefully worked to fix the kid up a bit before taking him home, Gohan had said that Videl became angry because he talked about Junior too much. She’d insulted Junior, Gohan had insulted Videl’s father, and Videl had countered with something astonishingly cruel: _“You’re just mad because you don’t have a daddy!”_ How could Gohan _not_ have countered that? Sure, it was ridiculous, and of course he had a father, but there was a difference in a father and a dad. The kid didn’t really have either, and Chi Chi could only do so much on her own. Gohan’s best friend had driven him to violence because she knew to say Goku was never around. What the hell kind of life was that for the kid? It made Junior want to scream.

_I love you. And I miss you._

“How can she still love him?” Junior asked the stars. Dawn was coming soon. A last wisp of the crescent moon, more like a floating feather than a celestial object, was ascending right before the sun broke the sky’s edge. The Big Dipper was almost hidden for the night. “How? How?” Junior pounded his fist over and over into the concrete ledge of the roof. _“How!”_

Silence answered him.

Looking at the stars made him think of Gohan. The little boy had found Namek a few weeks before, and it was the first time Junior had ever seen the planet outside of books, photographs, or artwork. He’d never taken the opportunity to visit his species’ home world. The fact the kid had looked for it, found it, and shared it with Junior, though… Now that was something miraculous.

Gohan had changed him for the better in every way. For years, Junior didn’t smile. Sneer, yes. Grimace. Smirk. The occasional malicious lip curl before knocking someone’s teeth out or breaking kneecaps or snapping arms. But a smile… It had taken Gohan to bring that back. Amazing little Gohan hadn’t been scared of him, no matter how mean or snarky or cranky he was. The kid had looked past Junior’s roughened exterior and found someone locked else deep inside: a better version of himself.

When he’d seen Chi Chi’s broken down car at the Capsule Corp. compound the other day, he’d secretly thanked the dragon that it hadn’t worked that one afternoon. Gohan and she had needed a ride to his school for an interview about moving him to a different school, one where he could be academically challenged and mentally stimulated. Although that hadn’t quite happened (yet – it would, even if Junior had to pay for the tuition himself), one had to agree that Gohan, Chi Chi, and Junior had all benefited from the rusted hunk of junk not working.

Great, he thought. Another thing to hate Goku for. He hadn’t even left his family with a decent car before ditching them for his buddies and pervert manager. Their car was _still_ broken while he was out driving around the country in a functioning vehicle, having regular matches and (likely avoiding his wife and son by) picking random fights when he was bored just because he heard someone could maybe possibly be kinda somewhat strong… or some bullshit he used to justify his abandoning Chi Chi and Gohan. 

Good God, Junior _hated_ Son Goku more than he could ever say. When they did face off, it would take everything in the Namekian not to utterly destroy the son of a bitch molecule by molecule. (Now _that_ was a vengeful dream he would hang on to until he could get to a gym and possibly spar out that negative energy against Vegeta.)

_I love you. And I miss you._

Again the pain of betrayal shot through him as he remembered those seven words. It wasn’t just Junior who would hurt because Chi Chi loved and missed Goku, though; she was betraying and disappointing _her son_ more than anyone with those words. Did that woman actually believe Goku could come home and be anything good to Gohan? Kind, attentive, caring, capable of more than lies, excuses, and disinterest? That kid was her world. So why, of all the times when Gohan most needed her as his advocate and guardian, why didn’t she think of him?

When Junior finally flicked away his cigarette before turning to head back inside, he didn’t know who he hated more: Goku, for making Gohan and Chi Chi cry ever, or Chi Chi, for still stupidly loving the son of a bitch who made her son and her cry.

No matter who he was mad at, though, Junior only felt more miserable about the whole thing.

Part of him wanted to scream at Chi Chi: “Would you really want an uncaring father in Gohan’s life daily? Do you want him to watch his father take off again and again and again, and forget this or that, and come up with more stupid ass excuses for why he missed Gohan’s birthday party or another recital or Gohan’s entire life? Why would you do that to your kid? Is your love for Gohan worth what Goku would do to him? To you? Why can’t you see that your marriage died years ago and it’s time for a new beginning for you and your son? _Why don’t you believe you deserve better_ than a husband gone for years at a time and a son craving fatherly attention and validation? Is it worth possibly stunting his emotional and psychological growth? Worth him eventually giving in and fighting because he thinks it is the only way for his father to give a damn about him? Damn it, Chi Chi – _you deserve better!_ You deserve better than better; you deserve so much more than better!”

But Junior knew that would only make things worse. Likely he’d never get to see Gohan again if he said anything of that, and Chi Chi would surely cave his head in with a frying pan while he was sleeping one night. Yet somewhere, deep inside, he would rather be dead than see Goku back with Chi Chi and Gohan. There was no way that absentminded prick could ever truly be there for his family; instead of seeing what a miserable mess was made of the Sons, Junior would rather live with Kami at the colony, or even his father. Anywhere else would be less painful than the coming future. He knew what it was like to be the son of a fighter, to see your father disappointed because you didn’t want to punch someone or didn’t do well enough in the ring or didn’t make him happy, but it was never about you. It all went back to the father and his failures, because _you_ were his son and that meant taking up his mantle to vanquish anyone who beat him. Even worse, Junior knew what it was like to see your father slowly forget things said over and over, to forget the date and day and month and year, to forget your name, to lose himself because he never got the hell out of the ring and his brain was ruined from so many concussions that he didn’t know reality existed anymore. He would devolve into a helpless pile of skin and bones, not cognizant or coherent, eventually nothing more than a drooling mess waiting to die. Gohan deserved a better future than that. Chi Chi deserved better ending to her marriage than to clean up after Goku as his body began failing basic functions by age 40 as he slowly digressed until he was bedridden. Junior wanted to and could give them that chance at better, if only-

_I love you. And I miss you._

_Haha! Cheech you’re so silly!_

*&*

Of course, Junior would never say anything. He’d act like the phone call never happened. He didn’t want to make Chi Chi feel bad or bring up anything that would hurt her, and he didn’t want Gohan to realize how callous Goku was, even if the kid already had a damn good idea.

But under everything else, buried deeper than his hopes and dreams and thoughts and regrets and doubts and fears, a tiny little voice kept whispering, “Am I not good enough?” 

The accompanying answer always said, “No. And you never will be.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'd love to hear what you think. Good? Bad? Grammar issues, OOC, anything? Comments and kudos make my day!
> 
> The "harem of sexy demon skanks" is not my line; credit for that goes to Team Four Star and their DBZ Abridged version of "Dead Zone." If you aren't watching DBZ Abridged, get over to YouTube right now and start!
> 
> After going through almost every DBZ wiki and even my personal DBZ Xpert Woubazoid, I never could find what race Zarbon is. Hence Zarbonians.
> 
> The title of this piece is from Snow Patrol's song "This Isn't Everything You Are."
> 
> And, last but _**definitely**_ not least, THANK YOU! once again to J.L. Lunar for allowing me to create this and for writing "I Didn't Ask for This." It is nothing short of a masterpiece. You can find here on fanfiction.net/s/11748459/1/I-Didn-t-Ask-For-This.


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